Monday 12 October. Travel to Tokyo

 Monday 12 October ... to Nippori Tokyo

A midnight flight and an uncomfortable night had us touching down at Narita at 7.50 am Japan time. After collecting bags clearing immigration and customs, walking the kilometre from terminal 3 to 2, getting money from an ATM, trading in our JR pass vouchers for the real thing and getting tickets for the NEX - the JR express train that connects to Tokyo - we were sitting on the train watching some rural Japan whiz by under an hour later. After a line change and a bit of jet lag induced blundering around we got to Nippori by 10.30. The Japanese systems are impressively efficient.

We spent a bit of time at the station trying to get our phones to show us where the hotel was. Luckily Anne looked up and there was a huge sign for the hotel directly opposite. A lovely Autumn day here, with lots of people enjoying the sun. Last time I was here was in the middle od a blizzard. Lovely to see it green and bright with colour. We had lunch then caught up on some sleep. The room though was incredibly hot and turning on the aircon made no difference. We raised this with the nice lady at reception. With the aid of Google translate she told us that the aircon is not turned on at this time of year so open the window, which we have done, and it is much cooler but noisier.
After a hot afternoon nap we headed off to explore some of Nippori. We wandered down the Nishiguchi shopping street to the North west of the station. A very nice, relaxed vibe, with lots of families out enjoying the early evening. The street is celebrated for its cats, and there are both lots of representations of cats, shops selling cat kitsch, and even a few actual cats, who were like celebrities. Each cat had its own gaggle of people with cameras, paparazzi, which the cats seemed to accept as their due. Lots of clothes shops as Nippori is a fabric district, and Anne had a great time in the little stalls.

We had dinner in a restaurant on the second floor of an anonymous looking building near the station. It was sort of western Italian Japanese fusion food, and despite its out of the way location it was packed and jumping. We got a table, selected what we wanted then waited, smiling hopefully at the young waiting staff bustling by, but to no avail. Was it us? Had we committed some awful unknown cultural faux pas and were doomed to be ignored? At last the nice older Japanese couple at an adjacent table pointed out a green button located in a green plastic holder on the table. One press and a waiter appeared as if by magic to take our order. A great system and easy when you know how. Dinner was delicious and cheap too by Melbourne standards. 

So tired but happy we are looking forward to a good night's sleep in a real bed.

Paris

Left Santiago this morning, glad to be starting the homeward trek. All went without a hitch till the train from Cdg stopped at Gard du Nord, and all passengers were left to fend for themselves. Looked like something had gone seriously wrong with the Paris train system, as there were people everywhere. A nice man emptying the rubbish bins sent me in the right direction and a packed train eventually appeared, which i managed to squeeze onto, which took me one stop in the right direction before we had to get off. Found another nice man, a cleaner, who led me through a maze of platforms and pointed me to my third train which, despite skipping a station without any announcement i was aware of, brought me to the station I wanted. Took nearly three hours to get from CDG to here, which wasn't quite what I had in mind for the relaxing stopover.
Paris is quite confronting after a month or so of mostly rural spain . It is incredibly expensive - i spent as much on dinner tonight as i have on 5 dinners in Spain. It was a nice dinner, but not 5 times as nice. There seem to be lots of desperate looking homeless people, all the more distressing because of the contrast with the elegant, well heeled crowds of people who seem to effortlessly ignore them. All in all a bit noisy and busy for me at the moment. I wont be sorry to get On the plane tomorrow.

Santiago de Compostella -last day

Another glorious blue sky sunny day. I don't understand how it all stays so lush and green, but it does.

I managed to wind up a long way from the museum i was looking for, but it was lucky as I met a fellow pilgrim I knew from Ponferrada walking from the bus stop, after walking to Finisterre. It was nice to be able to use my knowledge of the city to guide them first to the Cathedral, then to an albergue. We arranged to catch up for dinner, then I found the museum, actually very close to the albergue I had just led the pilgrim to.

The museo of perigrinations' collection has an interesting display relating to the genealogy of St James, the whole strange story of St Anne and the holy kindred. St Anne, according to the story, had three husbands, gave birth to three daughters, one by each husband, each daughter being called, confusingly I would have thought, Mary. She is in effect grandmother to about 7 thirteenths of the early church.
Puzzling over this, I branched out on a new lunch spot, very nice indeed, back to the pension for a siesta, then back to town to explore the Museum of Terra Santa and its strangely eclectic collection of objects relating to Jerusalem, including a large scale model of the church of the holy sepulchre, a copy of the shroud of Turin, stone age flints and stone tools, world war 1british army helmets and many pots. I must confess I struggled a bit with that museum but i am sure it means well.
My last dinner was a bit strange, as the place we chose had a limited offering before 8, so we dined on pulpo and potatoes and smoked salmon and cheese and bread and chicharrones, a sort of pork dish. With apple tart and spanish cheese cake to finish. It was actually a very nice last meal in spain, and the young woman serving was really hospitable and friendly. So, tomorrow, the journey home begins.

Santiago de Compostella - gardens day

The map that the tourist office hands out has a suggested walk which more or less circumnavigates the city and takes in both most of the parks and gardens, and a fair few of the buildings of historic significance, los Edificios Historicos.
First off though I spent an hour just sitting in the Praza do Obradoiro watching the pilgroms come in, and acting as impromptu welcome committe and photographer for a few who had arrived by themselves.
The walk itself took about 4 mostly pleasant hours with stops for coffee aand tarta santiago, and lunch, along the way. Santiago is a university town, a fair proportion of the student population seemed to be out in the parks sunning themselves. It really is a beautiful city. The end point of the walk is Colexiata de Santa Maria do Sar, a 12th century church that has the most massive buttresses relative to the size of the church that I've seen, though when you see the angle of lean on the side walls I guess I can understand why. Unfortunately it was shut.

You would not know Spain was a country in the midst of an economic crisis looking at Santiago. The people all seem prosperous, the civic infrastructure is great and well maintained. It is about the same population as geelong, but feels cleaner, cooler, and richer.  As a liveable place, it would have to score way higher.

Anyway, last day tomorrow ....

Santiago de Compostella Rest Day

Today I didn't do much. A load of washing to the pilgrim centre - with luck they might let me on the plane now - caught up for a coffee and goodbye with a friend from the very first day,  collected my backpack bag, a nap, a coffee, a glass of wine in the sun in the Praza da Quintana Ventos, delicious dinner with three respectable courses, wine and coffee for 12 euros with another walker from the Meseta days - I have established favoured customer status at the restaurant where I eat on the basis that I've brought in a fair bit of trade for them- then a lovely stroll through the twilight back to my pension. Not too bad really. I wonder if I have lost the skills to do things like cook, wash dishes, shop, or house work. All this sitting around being taken care of is dangerously easy.

Finisterre

I got down to the bus station early, got my return ticket and caught the bus to Finisterre. Two hours each way, and a lot of it is along spectacular coastline, the Costa del Morte, the coast of death. Looking at the reefs visible above the waterline i can guess something of why it gets its name. But in mild spring sunshine it was all extremely picturesque, little fishing villages with brightly painted boats, walled harbors, little sandy coves, fields surrounded with stone walls that look like they have been there for centuries or longer. The landscape in places is reminiscent of the East coast of Tasmania or Wilsons Prom, with large volcanic mountains and lots of granite boulders.

The town of Finisterre is very laid back -  it would be a nice place to spend a few days. I bet it hops in summer. When the bus arrived it was mobbed by the crowd of people clutching bicycles, backpacks, long sticks and suitcases who struggled against the tide of people clutching bicycles, backpacks, long sticks and suitcases trying to get off. General mayhem there but being unencumbered I managed to slip through the crowd and find a bar for second breakfast. The nice man there gave me directions to the Tourist Info Office which were almost correct. He said turn left then left, when it was actually left then right. I found it eventually, got a map  and headed off to the cape, which was about an hour's pleasant walk. The end of the earth had the additional atmospheric contribution of smoke rising from still smouldering piles of stuff which perigrinos had ritually burnt the night before. Boots, some walking poles, and clothing seemed to have gone into the piles, and the smoke had a nasty burnt rubber and toxins smell.  Still I found some reasonably clear air, and sat and ate a celebratory banana, and contemplated the 270 degree view of the ocean from what was for Europeans up till Columbus, truly the end of the world.

Brisk walk back to town just in time to see the doors close for siesta of the museum of the sea, housed in a lovely old fort overlooking the port. As a consolation I walked down to the beach of the little cove below and paddled my feet in the Atlantic for a bit.

Caught the bus back at 3. Quite disconcerting and a bit motion sickness inducing to be whizzing along at up to 100 kph after an average of around 5 for so long. The other thing that struck me was just how great the distance is that you can cover in 3 days walking -which is the time it takes to walk to Finisterre from Santiago. The last thing that struck me was how odd the walking pilgrims looked when spotted from the bus. Perhaps they were just a few strange pilgrims - that guy walking along yelling into his mobile and waving his stick in the air, that woman with a fixed grimace - or do we all look a bit odd to people gliding past effortlessly in motorized comfort?

People are starting to move on, catching flights or buses out. A lot of goodbyes - the farewells stage. In a way, the Camino is a bit like life sped up. You meet people, walk and eat together, share hardships, stuffy dormitories, get to really like some of them, then they go back to their world and you go off to yours. 

Tomorrow a quiet day. Need to retrieve the carry bag for my back pack that i sent on from st Jean Pied de Port way back when.

Santiago de Compostella Day 4

Really slept in today, till 9 which was a good idea as just about everywhere was closed. The little panadaria down the road was open so I got a croissant to keep me going and headed off for the Cidada da Cultura de Galicia. It is a on one of the hills surrounding the city and is a good walk. The buildings are a series of sweeping curves, and they certainly make an impressive outline - you can see them for miles away.

I couldn't help  but wonder whether the whole thing is vastly misconceived. It is not a particularly functional design, with huge interior spaces that are very hard to use. The exhibition i saw, "The Way The Origin" solved the space problem by having the objects housed within smaller structures connected by a rather hoaky pathway - emblematic of the Camino I guess - strung with green netting. It was Sunday and admission free, in a city bursting with hard core Camino nuts, and there were about 14 people in the place, of whom 6 were staff. The objects on display and the curating were terrific, but I think the venue has all the hallmarks of an extremely expensive white elephant. The image below is from one object on display,  an illuminated manuscript which tells the tale of St James interceeding to Mary for the soul of a pilgrim who has been tricked and killed by the devil. I like the tug of war with the soul represented like a little golden baby.

Walked home in time for the last climb of the 15th stage of the Giro D'Italia followed by a siesta.

Caught up this evening with some people  I walked with early on who have just arrived, and some other faster returnees from Finisterre. Mixed reviews but  I think I'll bus there tomorrow.